Within
by Dark Arwen
Summary: Dark Angel/LOTR crossover. Draws elements from the Silmarillion- but you'll have to read it, I don't want to give it away in the summary quite yet. Review if you love me!
1. Default Chapter

"Within"

Dark Arwen

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Dark Angel belongs to Fox.  Tolkien's stuff belongs to Tolkien.  Go ahead and flame me- The Witch King and I know where you sleep.  Same applies to people who want to sue me for the $14.57 I have to my name.

This is obvious AU, set someplace in between Hello/Goodbye on DA and next week's episode, and after the Last Ship sails West from the Havens in LOTR.

A/N: _"Italics in quotations"_ is Elvish.

_Italics is thought._

"Normal in quotations" is spoken English.

About some of the names:

Tirwen= Girl Who Watches

Avaenyalieëar= The Sea Without Memory.  (I got that from Shawshank Redemption, where they say that the Pacific Ocean has no memory.)

I think names are one of the most important parts of a story, so I get pretty in depth with them.  They'll evolve as the story goes on.  

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            "Can I get another beer please?"

            Sharp eyes watched the dark haired girl as she lifted the pitcher from the bartender's hands, carrying it over to the table where her friends were seated.  

            The watcher's companion leaned in closer, face hidden under the hood of a gray sweatshirt.  _"You're sure that this is the girl?"_ he asked softly.  

            The watcher nodded mutely.

            _"And what of the others?"_

            _"I could only find the ones that she goes with.  Another such as herself, a male; one with the likeness of a dog, also a male."_  The figure, also with a hood pulled down low, paused for a moment, eyes never leaving the girl at the table.  _"Her lover cannot touch her, for fear of a powerful poison she carries.  Her enemies are many; her friends are few.  There are others like her, somewhere.  I know not their location, or if they still live."_

            The other person nodded.  _"Tonight.  You must try to bring her tonight,"_ he said, then stood.  _"Farewell."_  He touched the gray-clad shoulder lightly, almost fondly, and then slipped through the door and into the night.

            "Yeah, so then Normal's all like 'Bip bip bip,' and I swear to God I was going to be all, 'Normal, take that pencil and shove it up your ass with a spin on it, bip bip bip.  What an asshole he can be."  Max sipped her beer and  kicked the bottom rung of the railing next to her viciously.

            Cindy put a comforting hand on her arm.  "'S okay, boo.  You know I got your back.  Specially if Normal needs an attitude readjustment.  Hey, cheer up, here comes Logan.  Looks like he's looking for you."

            Max snorted.  "Why else would he be slumming it in here?" She looked over to the doorway, where Logan stood.  Her heart thumped in her chest, though she willed it not to.  

            "Even though we're over, Eyes Only goes on," she said drolly, rolling her eyes as she tried to make light of the situation.  _Please, be somewhere else Alec, please, don't come in while he's here_, she begged silently.

            Too late.  Just as Logan began to cross the floor to the table, Alec pulled up a chair.  "Hey ladies, how's it goin tonight?" he asked them, his usual arrogance making Max want to gag.  She winced as she saw a flash of fury in Logan's eyes, but he kept making his way towards them.

            "Hey Max." His voice cut her like a knife as he looked into her eyes, as if searching for something.

            "Logan." She looked away.

            He pulled up a chair and sat down between her and Original Cindy, opposite Alec.  

            "What's up?  Eyes only work again?"

            "Yeah." Logan leaned back.  "I got a tip from a source.  Some crime lord's supposedly smuggling guns in.  Feel like checking it out for me?"

            Max shrugged, staring down into the liquid amber of her glass.  "I guess so.  Where's it at?"

            "Seaside Park, down on the waterfront, south of the harbor."

            Almost as one, Max and Original Cindy frowned.  "No one goes down there anymore," Cindy said.  "Not even the junkies.  That place is dangerous."

            Max nodded, chewing on her lower lip nervously.  "I was down near there only once.  Even the three or four blocks surrounding it are deserted.  It's horrible."

            "They say if you go in you never come out," Alec intoned dramatically, laughing at the glares he received from the three of them.  "C'mon, kids, you're scared of a ghost story?"

            The figure in the corner hadn't moved for over an hour, but no one said anything.  No one seemed to notice it's presence.  It was as if it wasn't there at all.  

            It watched the dark haired girl stand, throw some money on the table, and swing her bag over her shoulder.  She was leaving.

            Standing, the figure made it's way toward the exit, and the alley outside where the girl had stashed her motorcycle.  It seemed to blend in with the bricks as it crept around a corner, noticing but not being noticed by the dark suited man who leant up against the graffiti covered wall.  

            The watcher did not look at the man in the black suit as it passed him.  It knew it would be better if it were more or less oblivious of its presence.  Men in all black, veiled as it seemed in shadow, did not bode well for those abroad after dark.  It had learned that long ago.__

            Max sighed and ran a hand through her hair as she walked over to where her bike stood.  "Another night, another job, why do I put up with this?" she muttered, having been talked into going after an arms dealer.  

            She revved the bike and took off like a shot, the wind in her face relieving the tension she felt as it always did.  

            Her thoughts were more on Logan and less on the car that swung onto the road behind her.  

            Buildings raced past.  Max slowed down as she approached her apartment building, but decided to get Logan's work out of the way first before crashing for the night.  Longingly she thought of her bed, with the soft flannel sheets and beat up pillow-

            Whoa.  Focus.  

            Too late.  Her back tire skidded across the asphalt, a few sparks lighting up the darkness in her wake.

            Max's brain felt sluggish for some reason.  Her bike hadn't wobbled enough to cause a flat.  _Then what_…?

            Pain bit into her shoulder, and she hit the ground and rolled, her brief moment of disorientation over with.  "Fuck," she said, wincing as her fingers touched the hole in the leather of her jacket newly made with a bullet.  A bullet that came from a silenced gun.  

            The pain in her arm was blinding, and spreading quickly through her back and chest.  _Bullets don't hurt like this_, the rational part of her thought.  Using some of her rapidly diminishing strength, she pushed herself back against a doorway, dark eyes scanning the deserted street for her assailant.  

            Max blinked, trying to clear her vision, which was becoming blurry.  _What the hell did the son of a bitch shoot me with?_  She thought angrily.  Squeezing herself closer to the door and into the shadows there, she waited for discovery.  Fear gripped her as she realized that she wouldn't be able to fight much in her present condition.  

            A man crept towards her, dressed head to toe in black.  Black gloved hands held a pistol of some sort out in front of him.  Max could dimly make out the silhouette of the sunglasses it wore, but they were indistinguishable from his face in the darkness of the shadow cast from the streetlamp against his back.

            For the first time in years, Max was scared.

            Fear beyond words, the cold kind that rarely ever comes in nightmares shook her.  Her vision grew worse, now black around the edges, and she knew that in only a few minutes she would be unconscious, and this man would take her to someplace worse than Manticore.  She shivered, and a tear rolled down her cheek.

            The last thing she knew before her eyes closed was that the man was running past her, running away, and the horrible shadow lifted from her shoulders just as the cold and dark overtook her.

            The watcher winced as the sound of the shot echoed off the walls around them.  The skid of a tire and metal on pavement reached its sensitive ears not a full second later.

            Whether the dark-suited man noticed its presence or not no longer mattered.  Long legs propelled it around the corner, quickly, silently, as if its feet never touched the ground.  In one smooth motion, pulled a flare out of its pocket, lit it, and threw it at Max's assailant.

            The flare its target in the shoulder, knocking the gun out of his hands as he lunged forward.  With a terrible shriek, he ran off into the night, clutching his now burning sleeve and trying to put out the flames. 

The figure watched the man retreat for a moment before it leaned down over Max, then stood and whistled shrilly.  Another hooded figure appeared beside the first, bending to pick the prone girl up in his strong arms.  
            _"This way, we'll go to her dwelling.  It's closest,"_ the first said, and they raced off towards Max's apartment.

            No words were spoken.  None were needed, as the two people and one

unconscious girl raced into the abandoned office building.  

            Ducking into a side passage, they bolted up the stairs to Max's floor. 

            Max's apartment was empty. 

            So much the better, the first watcher thought, pushing her hood back from her face as she swept a bunch of decorative pillows off of the couch, allowing her companion to lay the injured girl down.

            Max stirred as her head hit the cushion, her eyes coming blearily open.  

            _"What happened?"_ The second person also had pushed his hood back from his face.  Max blinked and looked up at him.

            The shock was wearing off now, she knew; her shoulder and back were numb and the muscles surrounding the area were on fire, but her vision was starting to clear.

            Her vision was definetley clearing up- but she wasn't sure about her hearing.  Or, come to think of it, her brain.  Maybe, she thought, I hit my head a little harder than I realized.

            Carefully, she focused on the words coming out of the man's mouth.

            "Mani marte?  Mani marte?"

            Max shook her head slightly.  Were these the people that had done this to her?  She wondered idly what they were arguing about, and if it had anything to do with Manticore.  They had obviously not noticed she was awake yet.

            "Ta nae Nazgûl!" The girl looked quite upset.  

            The pair continued speaking until a moan from Max brought their attention back to her.

            _"We've got to get her to __Avaenyalie__ëar.  __She's slipping fast,"_ the man said, resting a cool hand on Max's forehead.

            _"Get a blanket to put around her.  I'm going to call her friend and let him know where we are."_

            A frown furrowed the man's brow.  _"Are you sure that's wise, Tirwen?"_

            Exasperated, she put her hands on her hips and glared at him.  _"What choice do we have, Haldir?" _she asked, glaring at him as she reached for the cell phone in her pocket.  

            Haldir shook his head as he gently wrapped Max in a throw blanket.  Tirwen gingerly picked up Max's pager and brought the last number up onto the screen.  Memorizing it, she typed it into the keypad of the phone and held it up to her ear.

            _"Answer, answer, please, be there,"_ she muttered, her hands clenching and unclenching as she watched Haldir's ministrations.

            "Hello?"

            "Yes, this is Logan?"

            Across the city, Logan's eyes narrowed.  "Who is this?" he demanded, glancing at the caller ID, which read 'unlisted number.'  The voice on the other end of the line, oddly lilting, with a trace of a foreign accent he couldn't quite put a finger on, said nothing for a moment.

            "This is a friend of Max's.  You must come to Seaside Park tonight if you wish to see her alive again."  

            "Who is this!?!  What did you do to Max?!?"  Logan frantically pounded away at the keyboard, trying to trace the call.

            "You must bring the one who is like a dog…"

            "How do you-?"

            "Seaside Park."  The line went dead.  He stared at the reciver for a minute, listening to the dial tone blaring out, before grabbing his keys and heading out the door.

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Want more?  Review me baby.

(Mani marte?  What happened)

(Ta nae Nazgul.  It was a Nazgul)

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	2. Huh?

"Within"

Part Two

Dark Arwen

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Dark Angel belongs to Fox.  Tolkien's stuff belongs to Tolkien.  Go ahead and flame me- The Witch King and I know where you sleep.  Same applies to people who want to sue me for the $14.57 I have to my name.

This is obvious AU.  I originally set it between Hello/Goodbye and last week's episode, but I don't think the original plot fits.  Thanks to all the wonderful people who reviewed!  Your reviews will be placed on the Altar of the Feedback Whore, lol.

A/N: _"Italics in quotations"_ is Elvish.

_Italics is thought._

"Normal in quotations" is spoken English.

About some of the names:

Tirwen= Girl Who Watches

Avaenyalieëar= The Sea Without Memory.  (I got that from Shawshank Redemption, where they say that the Pacific Ocean has no memory.)

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            Max drifted in and out of consciousness.  Strange dreams came to her as she slept, carrying over into moments of wakefulness.  In her rare moments of lucidity, she was not sure of where she was, or who the people who surrounded her were.

            In her restless sleep, she called out for Logan, for Joshua, even for Alec; not knowing how close to her they truly were.  

            Hours passed by, unmarked by anything save the slow rotation of the stars.  Tirwen watched the healers work over Max's fever-wracked body.  She could have slept, had she chose to do so, yet although she was tired she knew that now was not the time to sleep.

            Max's friends had been escorted to a small room to wait for their audience with the Lady.  They were frantic and confused, and did not understand what was going on.  Not that she could blame them.  The perimeter barrier had scared them, as it was supposed to, and once they had passed it they were in a world so unlike their own that it was almost a physical shock to them.

            _"You should go talk to the others.  You speak their language better than any of us here,"_ Haldir said, approaching her from behind and resting a hand on her shoulder.

            Tirwen nodded, seeing the wisdom in his words.  Sighing, she stood up and stretched.  Haldir took over her spot, settling in comfortably with his bow propped up against his side, cloak wrapped comfortably around his shoulders.

            She decided to make a quick stop in her quarters to change out of the clothes she was wearing.  As one of the Watchers, she seldom wore the dresses or skirts the other women did, but her native garments were a thousand times more comfortable than the jeans and sweatshirt she was wearing right now.  

            Ten minutes later she was heading back toward Max's friends.  No doors or walls held them in, but they had not moved from the place they had been situated, in a small cluster of trees near the seawall.  

            "What's going on?" Alec leapt to his feet the moment Tirwen walked into the clearing.  She held up her hand to silence him.

            "You are to talk to the Lady.  It is a great honor," Tirwen said, glaring at Alec who looked like he was about to protest.  

            "What about Max?" Logan asked, seated on a low stone.  His eyes looked haunted at the thought of losing her.

            "She will be fine.  It will just take a while.  She was hit with a bullet from a Nazgûl gun.  Luckily she is strong, and she will not turn."

            "Turn?" Logan asked, mystified by the expression.

            "Turn…turn…" Tirwen wracked her memory for the English words to explain the phenomenon.

            "Turn into a Ringwraith.  Turn into one of the shadow people, the invisible ones." Joshua spoke up for the first time, looking smug that he had supplied the information.

            "What are you babbling about?" Alec asked.

            "You know!" Tirwen cut Alec off before he could say anymore.  "How do you know?"

            "Father read the books.  Joshua know them by heart," he said proudly.  "Max hit by a Mordor blade.  Bullet.  Thing.  Elf lord heal her, or Max die without dying."

            Tirwen crouched down to look Joshua in the eye.  _"Do you speak Elvish?"_ she asked him excitedly.  _"How much do you know?"_

            _"I can speak Elvish.  Some,"_ he replied, and Tirwen raised her eyebrows in surprise at Joshua's fluent use of her native tongue.  _"Father used to read us the books.  He told us the Elvish words.  They were his favorites."_

            _"Who wrote the books?"_

            _"They were Tolkien's books.  The Lord of the Rings, the Hobbit, the Silmarillion."_

            _"Oh.  Beren's books."_  Joshua looked at her quizzically and she quickly explained.  _"When Luthien and Beren sent the Necklace of the Dwarves to Dior, people assumed they were dead.  They hadn't died, they came to this world, as mortals.  Beren took the name Tolkien and wrote the books.  People think that they're children's stories."_

            "Hey, you mind using English for those of us who are stupid enough to speak it?" Alec's caustic voice cut into Tirwen and Joshua's conversation.  Reluctantly Tirwen switched to the other language.  

            "Your friend will be fine."

            "You said that before.  Who the hell are you people?"  Alec waved his arms around, as if he could get rid of some of his frustration that way.

            "All that will be explained to you in due time.  You must stay here for the next few days- you may go anywhere within the borders, but do not try to pass.  At best you will never be able to come back and at worst you will be shot by the border guards."  She pushed a loose strand of dark hair away from her face.  "Food will be brought to you shortly, and you shall have everything that you need.  No harm will come to you here.  All the things that chase you and Max cannot cross these barriers."

            "When will we get to see her?" 

            "Soon, Logan.  Soon."  Tirwen turned and walked away, disappearing between the trees.    

            Hours passed.  Logan, Alec, and Joshua didn't talk much; they were too worried about Max and the situation they were in to think about more trivial things.

            "This place sure is strange.  It doesn't look anything like this from the outside," Alec remarked, observing the silvery light that seemed to permeate everything.

            "Well, if you had a place like this, would you want to share it?" Logan smiled softly and leaned his head back against the tree trunk he was leaning on.  

            "No.  I guess not."  Alec turned to Joshua.  "How did you know what that girl was saying?"

            "She speaks Elvish.  Father taught us this."

            "Elvish, huh?"  Alec sighed.  "Joshua, buddy, I hate to break it to you.  Elves don't exist.  They're made up, a fairy-tale."

            They sat in silence for awhile, looking around them and noticing things for the first time.  Everything glowed silver, but it was a soft glow.  Peering through the trees they could see strange structures, similar to tree houses and staircases, winding through the branches, which were much taller and thicker than they had looked from the outside.

            "How long do you think they've been here?" Logan asked quietly.  "How long have the stories been circulating that this park is haunted?  They must have been here for years."  He pushed his glasses back up on his nose.  "They didn't want to be found."

            "You're right.  We didn't want to be found.  And we weren't."

            The three men in front of her jumped collectively as she silently appeared behind them.

            "Please, come with me.  The Lady is waiting for you."

            As they walked, Logan studied their guide.  She was dressed differently once more, this time wearing a long, shimmery gray dress cut in a Medieval style.  Her dark hair was still pulled into a rather severe ponytail, braided, and looped, but she now wore a silver circlet to soften it.  

            They walked to the other side of the park, to a small circle of trees that faced the breakers.  The leaves and branches seemed to glow more brightly here, and they could hear sounds of people singing borne on the wind.  The haunting melodies added to the surreal setting.

            In the center of the clearing, which was much larger than it looked, stood a beautiful woman.  Long blonde hair spilled down behind her in ripples and waves, intensely golden against the white of her beaded gown.  Blue eyes met each of theirs in turn.

            Logan had the distinctly uncomfortable feeling that he was not alone in his own mind, that someone- the woman in white?- had searched his thoughts and memories, and knew in that instant everything about him.

            "Elen sila lumenn omentilmo.  Creoso," the woman said.

            "A star shall shine on the hour of our meeting.  Welcome," Tirwen translated, standing off to one side.

            "Amin Galadriel…"  The woman continued in the strange language, while haunting music filled the woods.  Tirwen continued to translate, her voice kept in a cool monotone.

            "We are glad that the friends of Max have come to bear company with us while she is in Avaenyalieëar.  You will be safe from your enemies as long as you remain in these borders."  They paused, Tirwen's words ending just after Galadriel's. 

            "I know that you wonder why you were brought to this place, why what was hidden for so long was shown to you.  Your Max is the bearer of something very important to us.

            "We are the Elves, the Firstborn Children of Eru Iluvatar.  In your world, only a fairy story told to children.  Our history is vast, and that of another world; your only knowledge of it has been from one who has traveled outside the Circles of our World before us.  

            "We come from Middle Earth, I from Lothlorien, my companions from Doriath and Imladris and the Grey Havens.  Over two centuries ago, at the end of the Third Age, we sailed West from the Havens, heading to our true home in Valinor, the Deathless Land."

            As she spoke, images appeared in their minds, of a war of rings and a voyage over the sea.  They saw the dazzling beauty that was Aman, and felt the anticipation as the ship in their mind's eye glided over silver waves towards it.

            "The Dark Lord Sauron had been vanquished, the One Ring destroyed.  Yet the shadow that Sauron became wished to seek revenge for all that was taken from him.  Summoning the last of his strength, he too fled West over the Sea to Aman, waiting for the time when Earendil's ship would set sail across the sky.  For Earendil wore the last Silmaril, and Sauron saw in that jewel a way to take his revenge."

            More images flashed through their heads.  A golden ship, just leaving the water; a pinprick of light in the sky, swiftly surrounded in shadow and then falling to earth, streaking across the blue-black heavens.  

            "In that last battle Sauron perished, and the last of his hatred went with him.  But Earendil was also mortally wounded, and the Silmaril, mounted in the center of the Necklace of the Dwarves, was spilt into three pieces.

            "We knew nothing of this until we landed.  Then the Valar, whom in your tongue would be called gods, told us that the task was laid upon our shoulders to find the pieces and bring them together again.  We sailed back to Middle Earth, and found the two main pieces.  Yet the third, the smallest silver of the Silmaril, was never found.  So we sailed West once more.  But we never found Valinor- instead, we found this world.  Ever since we have set foot on these strange shores, we have been watching and waiting for a trace of it to come to light.  We have moved among you, unseen, unnoticed.  But now our search has ended.  For it is your friend, Max, who has the last piece of the Silmaril."

            Galadriel's eyes studied them.  With a graceful incline of the head, she turned to Tirwen.

            "Kela, Tirwen.  Diola lle."

            The elf girl bowed.  "Manka lle merna, arwen en amin."  She disappeared once more, walking over silvery grass on silent feet.

            "I know you care for this girl.  Yet the burden she bears, it is no small one."  Galadriel smiled slightly at the surprised looks on their faces that she could indeed speak their language.

            "I don't understand," Alec began, but Logan cut him off with a look.

            "Think about it, Alec.  You and I both know that Max was different from the other X-5's.  Manticore was dying to figure out her secret, what made her tick.  I think we may have found the answer."

            Alec considered this for a moment.  "Okay.  So we hand them over to these people for a while, they take out the…" he frowned as he tried to remember the correct word and failed, "thing that's in her, then we can all go home.  Right?" He looked at the woman questioningly.

            Galadriel closed her eyes, showing for the first time the weariness that she felt.  "If only it were that simple," she said.  "Alas, it is not.  But I would bid you look into my Mirror before I tell you any more…"

Kela, Tirwen.  Diola lle.  Leave us, Tirwen.  Thank you.

Manka lle merna, arwen en amin.  If you wish, my lady.


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